


Osmunda

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Human AU, M/M, Oops, generic "had a dream you died and freaked out", i should be writing my yoi fic, its not supposed to cuz its a dream but ya know, matthew dies in the dream, the dream dont make sense, they're boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 13:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11464242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Super short generic drabble that I shat out in like three hours. Matt dies in Gilbert's dream, and he freaks out. Matthew comforts Gilbert as he wakes up.





	Osmunda

**Author's Note:**

> im so sorry i should be working on my yuri on ice fic but i needed a break so herE
> 
> also, Osmunda means Dreams in the language of flowers. (i had no idea what else to call this fic)

Matthew was lifted up.

It wasn't clear what lifted him; Gilbert couldn't make out anything suspending him, no wire or string. The lift wasn’t gentle, though. Matthew’s feet rose from the ground suddenly, and panic splayed itself plainly across his face as the toes of his sneakers skidded across the ground. “Matt?” He didn't respond, eyes glued to the ground. _Where am I?_ Gilbert thought frantically. The room wasn't distinct, it was simply _there_ , its walls blurred and featureless. 

Matt was still rising. “Hey,” Gilbert found his voice very sore and dry. “Hey. Matt. Matthew!” He looked down. The toes of his sneakers were maybe five feet from the ground now, and rising rapidly. “What’s … Matt, what’s happening?” 

“I don't-” Matthew’s voice shook with panic. “Help- help me!” 

Gilbert tried to take a step forward. He couldn't. Panicked, he tried again. Nothing. His hands twitched, but his legs and feet were immovably rooted to the spot. “Please. Please!” There was a hoarse strain that he’d never heard from Matthew before. Midair, he struggled against whatever had him in its clutches. He seemed to rise faster by the second. “I don't like heights, G-G-Gilbert, come _on, help me!_ ” 

Guilt balled in Gilbert's throat, and he struggled more than ever, but his lower half was paralyzed and there was nothing he could do about it. 

“I can't move. I can't move, I’m _sorry_ , Matthew, what’s going on-”

“Help, somebody, please- I don't wanna fall! Gilbert, Gilbert, help me-”

At least thirty feet up now. Dread settled in Gilbert's gut. 

“Matt, you’re gonna be okay- please try and stay calm, you’re gonna be fine-” 

Matthew sobbed, eyes wide with terror. 

“GILBERT-”

And then, horribly, Matthew was slammed down. 

A loud, awful crunch filled the air as his body collided with the ground, and Gilbert screamed, an unintelligible noise that echoed through the room. On instinct, he fell to a crouch. 

For a moment, he didn't move, and then the reality of the situation hit him. 

“ _Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus-_ ” he strained, and scrambled forward, suddenly able to move. The beat of his own heart hammered in his chest, loud and angry. The air smelled like blood, and as he reached Matthew, grappled with him, red stained his hands. They quaked tremendously as he pulled Matthew to him, eyes scanning him for something, anything, that might assure that he was alive. “Matt! Matty. Matthew. Come on.” Matthew gave him no response, and Gilbert felt a ball of panic swell in his stomach. The other man’s eyes lulled at half mass, and a trickle of blood had seeped from the corner of his mouth. His hair was wind blown from the fall. _God. God._ He shook his body, desperate for a response. “Come on, Matthew, snap out of it. Matt?” A tiny, unbelieving giggle crawled from his throat. Gilbert couldn't breath. He couldn't think. The room seemed to spin. 

_He’s dead._

“He’s not dead- Matty, come on, you’re not dead.” His voice broke. Matthew’s body said nothing. “Fuck. _Fuck._ ” Warmth spread across his knees, his thighs, and with a jolt of horror, Gilbert realized that the warmth was _blood._ There was an abrasion somewhere on the body he was clutching to himself and it was huge. 

“Matthew, come on,” he choked out. He was shaking so hard that the loose flesh on Matthew’s face jiggled slightly. Gilbert's cheeks felt hot and for a moment he thought blood had begun trickling down his cheeks as well, before he realized that the warmth was tears. He was sobbing, sobbing as hard as he ever had. A scream accumulated in his throat and burst out, horrible and strangled. _He can't be dead._ “Come on, Matt. Wake up.” 

“Gilbert?” 

He sat upright in bed with a shriek. Sweat soaked the front of the loose t-shirt he was wearing. His hands were warm with liquid, and for a moment he panicked, but his palms were covered in sweat, not blood. Hands grasped his arm and his back, and he flinched away from them, before he realized that they belonged to Matthew. “Hey. Hey.” Gilbert’s boyfriend swam in his vision, and he realized with a jolt that tears were streaming down his cheeks. “It was just a dream. You’re okay.” Matt grabbed his glasses from the bedside table they shared, and shoved them haphazardly onto his face. He positioned himself across from the other man, his hands traveling to his forearms to his shoulders, up his neck to the side of his face. Matthew’s face was flushed from sleep. His eyes were wide, scared, terrified even, but they were alive. 

Gilbert gulped, and burst into tears again. 

“Ohmygosh- Gilbert, shh, shhh.” Matthew leaned forward, and collected his boyfriend neatly into his arms. Gilbert pressed his face into Matthew’s neck, desperately breathing in how he smelled, and cried. _He’s okay. It was just a dream._ Until he stopped crying, Matt held him, stroking his hair, and whispering sweet things into his ear. 

Finally they pulled apart. Matthew wiped his boyfriend’s cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. Gilbert wondered for a moment how he could sleep in such a heavy layer. “Are you okay?” His voice was so soft, so worried, that Gilbert almost began to cry again. 

“I’m okay.” His voice was thick with phlegm. “Are- Are you okay?” 

Matthew blinked. “Yes, of course, why wouldn't I … Gilbert, what happened?” 

“I, uh.” He tried to summon the dream that had upset him so much, but all he remembered was blur. _Blood, there was so much blood._ He shuddered, and Matthew stroked the side of his face, an almost desperate look on his face. The whole thing was quite ridiculous now that Gilbert thought about it, but dreams had always created larger-than-life emotions for him. “I had a nightmare. It-it didn't really make sense, now that I think of it.” Matthew nodded, ever-understanding. “You were, um, flying upward, and you were really scared, but then you fell, and you were dead, and, yeah. It was … upsetting.”

“Gilbert.”

“Yes?”

“I’m right here. I’m not leaving you.” A tearful smile stretched across Gilbert’s face, but it disappeared a moment later; Matthew’s eyes had an unusual shine of their own to them. 

“Oh, Jesus Matty, don't cry. I’m just being a baby.”

“I want to cry whenever you cry, it’s automatic.” The two giggled, and Matthew sniffled. “And you’re not being a baby. I’d probably panic if I had a dream like that. Oh, Gilbert, you’re shaking.” He clasped the other man’s hands in his own, rubbing the between his palms. Gilbert pressed his forehead to Matthew's, taking comfort in the sound of his breathing. After a moment, Matthew whispered, “You think you can go back to sleep now?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Matt settled down into the blankets of their shared bed and Gilbert settled his head into The other’s chest. Matthews’s hand settled in Gilbert’s hair, gently stroking. The steady beat of Matthew’s heart was comforting, and Gilbert felt himself growing tired again. 

As he slipped off, he could have swore that he heard someone singing softly in French, but it could have been a dream.


End file.
